


Dean Winchester’s Guide to Learning Spanish

by RogueTranslator



Series: 15x20 Didn't Happen. This is What Happens Next. [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Begging, Begging Dean Winchester, Bottom Dean Winchester, Canon Universe, Castiel Loves Dean Winchester, Cock Slut Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester Loves Castiel, Destielpacito, Dirty Talk, Doggy Style, Erotica, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Humor, M/M, Porn With Plot, Possessive Castiel (Supernatural), Possessive Dean Winchester, Post-Canon, Quote: Y yo a ti Cas | Me too (Supernatural), Riding, Rimming, Size Kink, Songfic, Spanking, Student Dean Winchester, Teasing, The finale is not canon, Top Castiel (Supernatural), Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Tutor Castiel (Supernatural), Virginity Kink, of sorts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:46:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27770221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RogueTranslator/pseuds/RogueTranslator
Summary: It’s a few months after Jack ascended and Castiel came back from the Empty. The time since has been a golden hour for the Winchesters and their found family: Sam and Eileen’s relationship is going from strength to strength; Jack’s plans to improve Heaven are proceeding apace; and Castiel is able to split his time evenly between the two most important people in his life, working in Heaven by day and returning to Dean for the night.As for Dean, he’s trying civilian life on for size, and it’s going well so far—he’s the top student in both of his courses at the community college. His Spanish instructor is so impressed, in fact, that she wants to know if he has any study tips he could share with the class.If only she knew.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: 15x20 Didn't Happen. This is What Happens Next. [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2031529
Comments: 43
Kudos: 343





	Dean Winchester’s Guide to Learning Spanish

According to both of his instructors at the community college, Dean was a model student. The reason for him being a standout in Introduction to Culinary Arts was obvious; food was basically his religion, after all. And if there was anything that Dean knew like the back of his hand, it was how to wield a knife with precision.

His other course was Spanish I. His teacher, a rail-thin Colombian woman who had a tic of adjusting her horn-rimmed glasses whenever she turned from the white board to the class, had started to ignore Dean’s raised hand out of necessity. Only when no one else volunteered to supply a needed word or satisfy the grammatical requirements of a sentence did Profesora Rojas call on Dean to illuminate the rest of the group. Though she tried to hide it, she clearly viewed him as a curiosity—a white American at the start of middle age who’d learned a yearlong textbook cover to cover within the first two months, and who spoke Spanish with an accent that she praised, wide-eyed, as _tan lindo_.

“Are you sure you’re in the right course?” she said one day, after he’d lingered behind to talk to her about the use of the _pretérito_. “You’ve never taken Spanish before?”

“No—well, maybe like twenty-five years ago. But I don’t remember any of it now.”

Dean honestly couldn’t remember if he’d taken Spanish in high school. Not like it would’ve mattered; with how often their father had moved him and Sam around back then, there hadn’t been much reason to internalize any of the material he’d been taught.

“You could be in Spanish III.” She adjusted her glasses. “It’s a shame that the add/drop period is over.”

“Oh.” Dean felt a slight blush on his cheeks. “You—you really think that?”

Profesora Rojas nodded with so much conviction that her hair danced out of its tight bun.

“Tell me, do you have a certain study method you use? Maybe you could share it with the class. It could help the others.”

His slight blush turned into hot, debilitating, clumsy stumbling over his words. Dean made hasty excuses before hurrying out to the college’s parking lot, where the Impala waited for him in one of the commuter spaces. _Share it with the class. Help the others._ Dean snorted. Yeah, it’d help them alright. Too bad he wasn’t willing to share.

He told Castiel about it that evening in the bunker, though not right when he’d gotten in from his day’s work with Jack in Heaven. They always used the first few minutes to share their days with each other—at the kitchen table, usually—but Dean decided to save the story for when they were doing the activity in question. Castiel had plenty to talk about today: something about a group of souls getting mixed up in a routine hand-off and the mountain of paperwork that created for him. Dean feigned attentiveness as best he could. Upstairs talk bored him, especially when he was waiting patiently for Castiel to pound him into their mattress.

An hour later, he was perched on his hands and knees, stark naked save the beaded bracelet Castiel had bought him on their last vacation, fists clutching the fitted sheet on either side of his pillow. The speakers in the corners of their room boomed a reggaeton bassline loud enough that it felt like the wooden bedframe shook every time a lyric landed. They always cranked up the volume in case Sam walked by; for an underground bunker, it was surprising how thin the walls were.

Castiel was camped out between his legs, as he had been for the last twenty minutes. His lips and tongue were worshipping Dean’s hole while he cried out, clawed the sheets, and arched his back.

They were studying.

“Line,” Castiel said, coming up for air.

“Uh. She’s a killer, when she dances….” Dean frowned at the headboard. “Sorry, it’s really fast.”

Castiel slapped the side of his ass gently.

“She wants the whole world to see,” Castiel said.

“Ah.” Dean squirmed as Castiel worked a generous gob of lube into his hole. “Ah!”

“Relax,” Castiel cooed.

“I am,” Dean insisted. “Hey, something funny happened in my Spanish class today.”

Castiel hummed in response. He was flexing and extending his finger, getting Dean ready for another one.

“Yeah, my professor told me that I’m really far ahead. That I could be two courses higher.”

“I guess all our studying is paying off.” Castiel crouched down to thrust the tip of his tongue into Dean alongside his finger, and Dean’s knees shook.

“She asked me what my study method is. Asked me to share it with the class.”

Castiel drove a second finger into Dean’s opening. Dean moaned and waggled his hips.

“She said it might help them,” Dean whispered. After nearly half an hour of kissing, rimming, and fingering, he already felt close to wrecked. Castiel wasn’t messing around tonight.

“I imagine it would,” Castiel said, twisting and pistoning his fingers into Dean. “I’m a very good tutor.”

“Yeah. So good.”

“Line.”

“You have a candle and I have a candle?”

Castiel kissed Dean’s hole. “Good.”

He drenched more lube down the middle of Dean’s ass, working it in with his thumb and ring finger. Dean’s entire body quaked when one of Castiel’s fingernails scraped against his rim.

“So, what’d you tell her?”

“Nothing,” Dean said. “I just booked it.”

“Didn’t want her knowing that you learn Spanish like this? Face down, ass up, begging?”

“I ain’t begging.”

Castiel gave a few quick strokes to Dean’s drooling cock, then cupped his balls. “You will be.”

“Dammit.” Dean flinched as the third finger finally broke through his tight ring. “Well, I’m not sharing you with anyone, so I don’t see what difference it makes if I told her or not.”

Castiel seemed to consider this. Now that he had three fingers inside Dean, he was moving more carefully. More slowly.

“I think you’re ready,” Castiel said, his voice thick with awe. Dean never got tired of hearing him that way.

“Was ready fifteen minutes ago,” Dean grunted.

Castiel spanked him. “You brat. I spend all this time lavishing adoration on you as you deserve, and you complain?”

“Sorry,” Dean said. He moved his hips, trying to look enticing. “I didn’t mean it, Cass. I just—”

Dean broke off at the familiar strum of a Puerto Rican cuatro.

“Ah! I love this song.”

“Then maybe you could pay attention to its meaning, my impatient one.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Castiel dipped his tongue into Dean’s hole again, dripped more lubricant along and inside it.

“Cass,” Dean whimpered. “Please. Stop fooling around, man.”

“Line,” Castiel demanded.

“You’re the magnet and I’m the metal,” Dean said, after a second’s thought.

“That’s right.” Castiel grasped greedy handfuls of Dean’s ass and spread him wide. “It’s like us, you know. From the moment I laid my hand on you in Hell, I was lost. Lost to Heaven. You corrupted me, Dean.”

Dean shivered. Nothing in his entire life had ever gotten him going like Castiel’s dirty talk. All those years he’d spent thinking of him as a nerdy guy who didn’t get any references? If only he’d known how filthy and utterly gone on Dean he’d been all along. They could’ve been doing this for years.

“Yeah?” Dean pushed his hips back. He felt his hole wink at the heat of Castiel’s breath. “Couldn’t help yourself, huh? You just had to have my sweet little ass?”

Castiel growled. He spanked one of Dean’s cheeks, hard. Dean yelped and ground his face into the pillow.

“No, I couldn’t help myself. That’s how magnetism works. Next line.”

“Despacito,” Dean mumbled.

Castiel spanked him again. Dean squawked.

“You know what I meant.”

“Breathe your neck…murmur in your ear…so you remember.” Dean glanced over his shoulder. “Please, Cass. Please fuck me already.”

Castiel narrowed his eyes at him. “The song is entitled ‘Slowly.’ I’ll fuck you when I’m good and ready.”

“You dick,” Dean grumbled.

Castiel crept forward, pressing the lines of his naked body over Dean’s. He sucked the skin at the side of Dean’s neck into his mouth and nibbled gently. Dean gasped when he felt the broad tip of Castiel’s cock tapping at his entrance.

“You’re mine,” Castiel said, his tongue tracing the outline of Dean’s ear. “Remember that.”

“Yours,” Dean agreed. “Always been yours. Made for you. Made _by_ you.”

“Do you think about this when I’m not here? When I’m up in Heaven, helping my son?”

“All day,” Dean admitted. “I think about your big cock inside me, marking me up. Signing the walls of my labyrinth.”

Castiel kissed his temple. He reached back and thwacked his length against Dean’s hole.

“Cass,” Dean groaned.

“Line.”

“I—I want to be your rhythm.”

“And?”

Dean felt a tear slip from one of his eyes. This was torture.

“Show my mouth your favorite places.”

“Very good.” Castiel kissed the small of Dean’s back, then splayed his hand over it. “I think you deserve a reward.”

Dean nodded into the pillow. He felt Castiel spread his cheeks again, then the delicious pressure of his fat cockhead against his hole. Castiel pushed in the first inch and a half, and Dean felt himself pucker over the flare of his glans.

“You’re like a vise.” Castiel paused to caress Dean’s flank, letting him adjust. “Still as tight as our first time.”

“Because you like me that way,” Dean said into the pillow.

It was true. Castiel always healed Dean afterward, made him virgin-tight with a flick of his archangel fingers. He had a kink for reliving his crowning triumph, for being the first to conquer Dean Winchester’s ass again and again.

“Look at you,” Castiel said reverently. He sank in a couple more inches, palmed his hand up to Dean’s neck before returning it to the small of his back. “That pretty pink hole, gobbling up every inch of cock I give it. And you thought you were straight?”

Dean’s face burned into the pillow. He reached back to pull his cheeks further apart, silently offering more of himself to Castiel.

“Line.”

“I—I want to see how much love fits in you!”

Castiel rutted forward, punching the last few inches into Dean. Dean wailed.

“There’s the answer,” Castiel said. “Your greedy little ass took all of me and hardly broke a sweat. I bet you could take even more, couldn’t you?”

Dean winced at the stinging where Castiel’s pubic hair tickled his hole. It was hard to believe, considering how thick his glans was, but he was even wider at the base.

“I bet you could,” Castiel said, answering his own question. “Maybe I’ll make myself a little longer. Or thicker. No reason to stick with what Jimmy was working with, as impressive as it is.” He sprawled himself over Dean’s back and stroked his trembling arms. “Would you like to try that next time?”

“You—” Dean gulped. “You can do that?”

“I can,” Castiel said hungrily.

Dean shuddered and closed his eyes. “Fuck.”

“Maybe we’ll try for more and more, Dean. Until you beg me to stop, even though you wish you could take just another fraction of an inch.” Castiel kissed the nape of his neck, bit his earlobe. “And then we’ll know exactly how much of my love fits in you.”

Dean turned his head to share a sloppy kiss. He could barely keep himself and Castiel raised off the bed on his shaking forearms. They felt like they’d give out any second.

“Fuck me, Cass. Fuck my ass.”

“Line.”

Everything was a haze, and Dean struggled to make sense of the Spanish lyrics pulsing against the bedroom walls.

“Let me…your danger zones,” he babbled. “Till you scream.”

“Good enough.” Castiel moved back into a kneeling position and drew back a few inches, then plunged back in. Dean howled loudly enough that, if Sam were anywhere nearby, he’d hear it even above the music.

“I think I found one of your danger zones,” Castiel said smugly.

“Yes!” Dean panted.

“Hands on the headboard. Line.”

Dean clung to the headboard’s edge and muddled through the words.

“Until—until the waves scream—”

Castiel slammed into his prostate again, and Dean jerked his head back in ecstasy. He lost the rest of the words.

“‘Ay, bendito.’” Castiel slapped Dean’s ass. “That’s the part you missed.”

Dean nodded dumbly—or tried to as best he could. His head was bouncing limply to the rhythm of Castiel’s fucking and it was taking all his strength just to hang on to the bedframe.

“Line.”

“Make you s—scream,” Dean stammered. “Forget your last—your last name.”

Castiel pulled all the way out and nudged his tip against Dean’s abused rim, circling all the way around. The song ended, but the familiar strings of the cuatro played from the top.

“Again?” Dean murmured.

“It’s the Justin Bieber remix. You can practice the lines you didn’t get to. Study’s all about repetition, after all.”

Dean groaned and hung his head. Castiel flicked his cock back and forth over Dean’s hole while slicking himself up with more lube.

“Cass,” Dean whined. “Fuck me.”

“I’m on it, love.”

Castiel patted the swell of his ass and wiggled his cockhead back in. Dean focused on loosening himself until Castiel had seated his cock inside him again with a satisfying squelch. He was even harder and hotter now, which probably wasn’t humanly possible. The perks of being in love with an angel.

“There we go.” Castiel soothed Dean’s quivering shoulders. “Just like that. So perfect for me, Dean.” Castiel rocked his hips, fucking into Dean’s prostate at the high angle that he knew made Dean come apart. “My human weakness. My righteous man.”

Dean moaned and arched his spine, trying to get Castiel as deep as possible. Castiel eased himself down, pressing his chest to Dean’s back.

“I can’t wait to spend the rest of eternity with you,” Castiel rasped. He licked Dean’s ear. “Giving you pleasure. Showing you all the ways we fit together. Making you forget everything outside these four walls—everything but you and me.”

“Yours,” Dean mumbled. “Only yours. Always yours.”

“I know. And I’m yours.” He moved up, slipping free for just a second, then sank his entire length back into Dean in one smooth motion. “Have I done my job? What’s your last name, Dean?”

Dean blinked lazily, trying to see through the glaze over his vision. He adjusted his grip on the headboard.

“W—W—Winchester,” he slurred. “Dean Winchester.”

“Shame.” Castiel snapped his hips, and Dean cried out. “Looks like I still have a ways to go. I _will_ fuck you until you olvides tu apellido. Line.”

True to his word, Castiel fucked him until he couldn’t string together more than grunts and whimpers. It didn’t take as long as Dean would’ve thought, though it was still longer than Dean’s record before they’d gotten together. As someone who’d almost universally been the one seeing to his partner’s pleasure in the past, he felt like he had a special appreciation for Castiel’s dedication.

Once he was confident that Dean’s words had finally failed him, Castiel brought him off with his lube-soaked fingers. They’d switched to cowboy position by then. Dean shot his load over the tanned expanse of Castiel’s abs and chest; a few globs even reached his hair. Castiel only allowed himself to come once Dean had finished. He clamped down on Dean’s hips, his fingernails marking the soft flesh there, and emptied inside him. Dean kept mindlessly bouncing on his cock for minutes afterward, matching his rise and fall to the beat of the music, delirious from the singing of the nerves in his ass and the thick smell of sex that filled the room.

Eventually, Castiel rubbed his thigh to bring him back to the moment. He smiled, pulled Dean off his cock with a soft pop, and ran a towel across their bodies to clean off. He brushed his fingers down Dean’s back, returning his body to pristineness. Dean snuggled into his arms, and Castiel brought the duvet up to their shoulders.

“Te amo.” Castiel kissed Dean’s waiting lips.

Dean nuzzled Castiel’s nose, caressed his stubble with his thumb.

“Y yo a ti, Cass.”

The next day, Profesora Rojas ambushed Dean near the end of the hour. Some of the other students were repeating the same questions about conjugating common verbs that they’d had for nearly two weeks now, and she was clearly at a loss over how to drive home the point that there was no silver bullet to learning the material other than regular study and practice.

“Dean,” she said, adjusting her glasses. “Por favor, comparte con la clase.”

Dean looked up from his notebook. “Huh?”

“Your study methods.” She gave him an apologetic look. “Maybe we could all benefit.”

“Uh.” Dean cleared his throat, looked at the other students. Most looked bored and half-asleep; a few glared at him resentfully. “I’m not sure.”

“Por favor,” she repeated.

“Well, um, the most important thing for me is working with someone else. If you can find a study partner or—or a group, it’s a lot easier.”

Profesora Rojas nodded. Her hair was dancing loose again. “Claro.”

“My partner—” Dean smiled. “He keeps me honest. Grounded. Even on days when I know he’d rather do something else, he helps me with my Spanish. I couldn’t do it without him.”

The faces in the class softened. Profesora Rojas patted Dean’s hand.

“Gracias, Dean. Okay, so that could be something to try! Why don’t each of you find a study buddy, and once you’re done pairing off….”

Dean turned to the window and gazed at the puffy clouds in the distance. He always sat in the front corner, where the light was brightest. He liked to feel Castiel looking down on him.

Spaghetti and meatballs for dinner tonight. Eileen was coming over, so he was cooking for four. Hopefully there wouldn’t be another paperwork disaster in Heaven today and Cass would be home on time. A board game, maybe—Cass and Eileen had a thing for those. And then…Spanish.

Dean couldn’t wait to learn more.


End file.
